


I want it all (and I want it now)

by behzaintfunny



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Begging, I love inventing pairings that don't exist, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 06:17:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17017326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behzaintfunny/pseuds/behzaintfunny
Summary: "A lone tear runs down his cheek as Ciro looks him in the eye, stares right into the depths of his soul and doesn't run away from what he sees."After the 2-2 draw against Lazio, Fabio makes one of Riccardo's fantasies come true.





	I want it all (and I want it now)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flamingosarepink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamingosarepink/gifts).



The air is dense around him whenever he breathes. Slow and tedious, reminding himself that amidst all this madness he has to inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale-- It's dizzying.

He doesn't recall it happening. It's all but a big frenzy, a bunch of emotions to remember rather than anything palpable. An ocean of dark blue and red, so vast not the most talented artist would think of it, amongst thousands of guttural roars filling the chilly air is what he recalls most vividly. He knows he's lost his shirt somewhere along the way, though he is not sure where. Then, it is only an array of different faces looking at him with the same primitive love, cold, shivering hands on his bare skin, the very culmination of a terrific hundred minutes passed.

For a few fleeting moments that, too, will pass, they are all one force. They touch and scream and cry, their hearts beat with the same intensity, their minds are filled with one feeling.

They are all Sampdoria.

Fabio takes his hand in his when they're away from the cameras. Only then does Riccardo truly feel like a winner.

**

"Do you like their eyes on you," Fabio whispers into his ear, the question more like a statement, "Ricky?"

A gentle bite at his earlobe, more of a caress of teeth against his skin rather than anything profound, successfully steadies him on his feet. He feels Fabio running his hands up his stomach underneath his shirt that sticks to his body almost painfully, tenative, beckoning. Fabio's bare chest hugs his back so closely they feel like one.

Fabio offers an escape route for Riccardo to take but he has never been one to take the easy way out. Not ever, not this time.

"I love it, _capi_ ," because he does, truly. He feels rather than sees Tonelli staring him down with obvious intent, Bereszyński clenching and unclenching his fists at the other end of the room, be it from the red card or the very sight before him, Audero stuck in place and defiantly looking at Riccardo's face. He loves it more than he'd ever like to admit, especially to Fabio.

"Which one of them would you like to get a little bit closer?" Fabio says, loud enough to pique everyone's interest, as if they didn't have it in the first place, "I know I said no touching but I could make an exception for you, if you'd like that. We're not going to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

Riccardo laughs nervously because he cannot refrain anymore, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting him, but it catches dead in his throat when he looks at Fabio. His eyes show no deceit, no dishonesty, allowing Riccardo the last word. When he doesn't respond quickly enough, Fabio starts kissing up his neck in a lazy manner.

Waiting.

Riccardo leans into him, a shadow of a moan escaping his lips. He realizes he doesn't particularly care for the rest of the team being here with them, looking at his bare displayed soul, not even as Fabio runs slow strokes up his shaft. If anything, it makes everything that much special, the sheer intensity of it sending shivers down his spine. Fabio next to him in such short proximity, still clothed much to Riccardo's dismay, anchors him to reality, reassures him that everything will be okay. He nods, though he knows it doesn't answer much, before Fabio pulls the jersey off of his chest.

"Riccardo?" he hears, barely audible in the spacious changing room, though it's not Fabio who says it.

Everyone shifts their heads to look at the doorway and suddenly, he feels cold. Exposed.

"Ciro, I want--" Riccardo says, voice haltering as he meets his blue eyes, "I want it to be Ciro," and then defiantly, head thrown back against Fabio's shoulder, he looks at Ciro like he couldn't keep on going without him, "Please stay."

Ciro looks back at the door hesitantly, then at the bench and the array of teammates caught in the act, most of whose hands have already made their way in each other's or someone else's shorts. Riccardo almost wishes Fabio would stop holding him and let him go as the silence draws on for a little too long to feel comfortable, but that of course is not the case. His fingers find their way into Riccardo's mouth with ease, Riccardo sucking on the few digits offered to him. It's all a show really, for him, for Fabio, for the team, maybe even for Ciro. It doesn't make his breathing go any slower, not as Fabio lets go of his cock to smack his buttcheek lightly, the sound reverberating through the room.

He sees Ciro's eyes on him, pressing burns at his skin invisible to the human eye, only a little nervous. He looks at Riccardo's lips as they close over Fabio's fingers, the taut of his neck, the sheen of sweat running down his chest. Riccardo has never in his life felt more exposed, and he thrives off of it.

"What would you like me to do?" Ciro asks, leaning against the door that he has locked behind him, hands pulling at the hem of his baby blue shirt.

Riccardo bites back a moan as Fabio's fingers leave his mouth with an audible pop, his other hand running up to rest against the low of his throat. His moistened finger circles at his hole, tenative and patient, ever so patient.

"Tell him, Ricky," Fabio breathes against the skin on his neck, driving him to madness with the slow and gentle circular motions, "It's okay."

"Please, Ciro," Riccardo begs as Fabio's finger slowly works its way inside of him, the burn of it not lost on him, "Please come here and kiss me. Touch me."

Life seems to have stopped around them, for Riccardo pays no mind to anyone else in the room but the three of them anymore. His whole world circles around the way Ciro approaches him, more impatient than he'd like to show, and the feel of his hands on his bare skin, so different from Fabio's. Ciro caresses his cheek where a memory of Fabio's lips lays reverently before closing the distance between them.

Their lips don't meet like his and Fabio's do, the kiss clumsy and impromptu, but that bears no importance because Riccardo loves it just as much. Ciro's hands lay on the low of his neck, Riccardo's own forced back by Fabio's free hand. Riccardo moans into the kiss, dirty and unabashed, as Fabio's finger inside him brushes a spot that makes his knees go weak.

"More, capi, please," Riccardo breathes against Ciro's lips when they seperate, "Ciro, don't stop."

"Demanding," Ciro says inbetween kisses, "I like it."

It isn't long before a second finger joins in alongside the first one, the burn of it on the pleasant side of painful, and Ciro has to hoist him up so that he doesn't fall onto the floor. His thighs are twitching from the intense soreness from the match accompanied by the willpower he musters to keep himself upright. He's painfully hard where neither Fabio nor Ciro touch him. The moans coming from the other end of the room only make it worse, Riccardo's eyes mostening with unshed tears.

"Tell Ciro what you really want, Ricky," Fabio groans against the neck of his face where he leaves a myriad of scarce bite marks, "Tell him, and I'm sure he'd love to oblige. Won't you, Ciro?"

A lone tear runs down his cheek as Ciro looks him in the eye, stares right into the depths of his soul and doesn't run away from what he sees.

"Anything, Riccardo," Ciro tells him, annunciating every syllable so that the meaning doesn't quite miss him, "Tell me what to do. I'm yours."

Riccardo swallows before collecting his thoughts. It'd be much easier to confess what he _wouldn't_ like Ciro to do to him.

"On your knees before me," Riccardo demands, desperately needing to reach out to Ciro but restrained, "I want you to make me come with Fabio inside me."

He hears a bit of a ruffle as a few people get up and into the showers to gather what remnants of dignity they feel the need to cling onto, but most stay. Audero looks so painfully aroused Riccardo almost wants to make him get over here.

Almost.

Riccardo doesn't want anything from any of them, not really, not as Ciro gets down on his knees, his warm breath hitting his thighs that already are burning. Ciro reaches for the hem of his shirt instinctively.

"Leave it on," Riccardo says before he can even think twice, "Anything for me, right? I want you to wear it."

Ciro gulps as he looks up at Riccardo, "That's right. Anything you want."

Ciro's cold hands caress the jut of his hipbones, the soft skin underneath, and it is the most intense feeling for the few fleeting seconds it happens. Three of Fabio's fingers hit hard inside of him before halting in their movements, Fabio reaching out for Ciro's hand with his free one. They are both a constant weight on his skin, above where his pulse fastens with each moment.

"No touching, Immobile," Fabio snaps, his tone gentle, "Let's see what you can do with your mouth only. Shall we? Don't stop unless he tells you to do so."

Ciro exchanges a knowing look with Fabio, one last glance at the men behind them as though to reassure himself that this is going to stay between them, in this stadium, in this very locker room. Ciro, in his soaked Lazio jersey, looks like he almost fits into the dark blue and red picture. Riccardo wishes one of them would be stupid enough to take a photo to remember this night by, this night of wonders and passion, so that he could thank them.

Ciro's lips close around the tip of his cock as Fabio's fingers leave him, greedy licks to tease Riccardo to insanity. Someone has passed some lubricant to Fabio because Riccardo can hear him rubbing the liquid over his cock expectantly, the anticipation of it almost as pleasant as Ciro before him.

Fabio's hand touches the side of his cheek to adjust his head so that their lips could meet as the slightly awkward angle, "Don't hold back, okay? We all want to hear you, we all love the sounds you make. This is your night, Ricky, there's no need to feel ashamed."

Riccardo chuckles, the sound hitching high as Ciro takes more of his cock in, "I'm not--"

Fabio gives him no chance to stand up for himself, his cock breaching into him at a slow, even pace. Riccardo is suddenly thankful for Fabio's hands around his torso because he could have lost his footing at the sheer intensity of it. Ciro takes him to the brim, teary eyes fluttering up at him, as Fabio settles fully inside him. Riccardo lets out an animalistic groan he cannot hold back any longer as the image of Ciro tightening pathetic fists against his shorts fills his mind.

"Move, Fabio, please," Riccardo moans as Fabio's fingernails trace over the sensitive skin on his abdomen, one final weak "Please," falling out of his lips.

Ciro's tongue works him expertly as Fabio pulls out only to slam in twice as hard, just the way he knows Riccardo likes it. Riccardo cannot hold back any noises now, not even if he wanted to, as the primitive wanting reverberates inside his veins, the feeling of filling and being filled too intense all at once. He bites his lip harshly as his toes curl, the telltale taste of blood collecting on his tongue as Ciro scrapes the underside of his cock with his teeth. It's perfect, almost impossibly so, and Riccardo briefly wonders on whom Ciro could have mastered the skill, but leaves that thought for another time. Fabio hits into him just right, not as hard as to hurt Riccardo, which might just be what he expected of him. Fabio has a tendency to stare him down with such need it's hardly fathomable, yet, when it comes to it, Riccardo's wishes always come first. Ever the captain.

He looks up briefly to see Linetty on his knees between Bereszyński's spread legs, Murru grinding atop Tonelli's thighs, Defrel taking sweet mercy on poor Audero. He wants them all around him all of a sudden but his voice catches in his throat when Fabio quickens his thrusts and licks at the fresh hickeys adorning his neck.

"Is this what you wanted, Ricky?" Fabio breathes against his skin, "Tell me how much you wanted it. Tell Ciro."

"I-- Yes, Fabio, fuck," Riccardo musters, the pace of Fabio's thrusts not slowing alongside Ciro's warm mouth around him, "I'd never thought it would feel so good. And because it's you, it's, ah--"

Fabio takes sweet mercy on him, or rather tortures him further, by altering his thrusts so that he doesn't hit Riccardo's spot with each one. Riccardo almost wishes he could hit him, his hands limp and useless at his sides.

"And you, Ciro, I--" Riccardo moans as Ciro sucks at his head, his hand reaching out to tangle in his blonde hair, "I'd always wished it'd be you."

There's many unsaid things between them but neither of them pay much mind. Fabio's fingernails run over his hard nipples, scratching the overly sensitive peaks until Riccardo has tears falling from his eyes unabashedly.

"You're being so good for us, Riccardo," Fabio tells him, kissing the warm streaks of tears he can reach away, "So fucking good. You deserve all of this. Ciro here wouldn't admit it but he's proud of you, too."

Riccardo tugs at Ciro's hair as Fabio thrusts harder inside of him, "Please, capi, no more, I just-- I need--"

"Just a little longer. You can do this, Ricky. Hold on."

Fabio's thrust inside of him quicken, the telltale smacking of skin on skin pure erotica for them and everyone watching. Ciro's tongue works him to insanity, just the way he likes it, the way he never knew he could take it. Riccardo's body sags against Fabio's, letting himself be forced up, even closer to Fabio but never close enough.

"When you ran to celebrate with them, I saw their hands on you, _really_ on you, and I was so proud of you," Fabio whispers into Riccardo's ear, kissing and sucking at the earlobe, "But I was so jealous. You, like this, for everyone... You're very special, Ricky, do you know that?"

Defrel comes with a high-pitched moan that sends shivers down Riccardo's spine. The world is spinning around him, Fabio's sweet nothings reverberating through his head and the pleasure clenching his thoughts. He catches himself struggling to breathe many times but however annoying it gets, not once does he ask either Ciro or Fabio to stop. His hold on Ciro's hair tightens when he sees Ciro putting his hands around his back, tightening them so that it forces him not to touch himself.

Fabio's rhythm haltens as he breathes, "You mean a lot to me, Riccardo, fuck--"

He reaches out to kiss Fabio, guiding him through his orgasm, Fabio's thrusts not slowing as he comes. The slide of Fabio's tongue on his combined with Ciro's maddening licks at the tip of his cock, Fabio refusing to pull out even as he softens inside Riccardo - it's too much.

Riccardo bites down on Fabio's lower lip as he attempts to get more of his cock inside Ciro's mouth, "Ciro, please, fuck, I'm so close. One more time."

He continues kissing Fabio even as Ciro allows Riccardo to gradually thrust all the way in, to the hilt, only the slightest bit of discomfort shown on his side. Riccardo loses his mind when he hears someone, Audero or Linetty, coming with his name falling out of their lips. He fucks into Ciro's mouth because he cannot refrain, not anymore, not with Ciro before him sobbing, untouched, hands curled behind his back.

"I love you so much," he whispers against Fabio's lips as he comes down Ciro's throat. He's not sure who he's talking to, if only one person, perhaps or all of them, but Fabio silences his uncertainties away with another gentle kiss. Fabio pulls out of him eventually, placing soft kisses at the top of his spine to keep his mind grounded.

He loosens his grip on Ciro's hair as he pulls out, exhausted and overstimulated beyond anything he has ever felt. It falls out of his hand easily, like it was never even there.

"Thank you, Ciro," he says, because he feels the need to do so, silently beckoning him to stand up and face him, "Thank you so much."

He kisses Ciro without asking Fabio's approval, like it was ever even needed, gentle hands caressing the sides of his face. Ciro shivers at the contact, hesitantly curling his hands around Riccardo's head.

"Would you like a reward, too, Immobile?" Fabio queries teasingly, a hand curling over Riccardo's and capturing the side of Ciro's face.

Ciro nods weakly, gaze slightly less sharp from the daze and the orgasm he never sought. Riccardo kisses the plea that never even happened off of his lips.

Fabio nuzzles against Riccardo's jawline, kissing lazily as though he can never quite get enough, "I want them to kiss you, Ricky. Is that okay?"

Riccardo chuckles against Ciro's lips, "I guess I deserved it."

Fabio whispers, "Mm, you don't even know," and then, to the rest of the dressing room, "Come and kiss your golden boy. Captain's orders."

It's teasing, nowhere near the voice they're used to hearing from captain Quagliarella, just as prominent on and off the field, but they follow sharp nonetheless. Tonelli's the first one to rise from his seat, as though lightning had struck him, a gentle kiss on Riccardo's lips along with a quiet thank you. Riccardo has no heart to tell him anything, he just laughs.

It's all a daze afterwards, a frenzy of lips of people he hadn't even had the chance to get to know too well. He learns Bereszyński kisses the softest, Audero still needs to be leaded and that no one kisses quite like Fabio. Fabio, who's finally gained the courage to walk out of Riccardo's shadow and kiss Ciro with intent, whispering inbetween kisses like he does with Riccardo, still meekly a pair of strangers but you wouldn't be able to tell.

After Linetty kisses his cheek, he is back with Fabio. Their kiss feels like the most natural thing in the world, two tangible bodies that fit together like one whole piece.

"We should shower," Fabio tells Riccardo affectionately, a warm hand clutching his own, "Ciro here is still waiting for his reward like a good boy. Shall we give it to him?"

"Hmm," Riccardo smiles, feigned innocence splayed on his face, "I think we should."

**Author's Note:**

> For Aviana, to maybe feed your Quagliarella thirst just a little bit. And for the very few people who will come upon this.
> 
> This is a depiction of "I have two due WIPs so instead I write porn no one cares about". Does this pairing have any real world possibility? No, likely not, but it was perfect in my head, so I wrote it. Also, we can play "guess the author's kink" in the comments, just for fun and giggles.
> 
> Title is from Queen. They're my biggest fic inspiration source at the moment, which I'm insanely grateful for. There will be one more fic this year still titled from a Queen song! How original!
> 
> All kudos and comments much appreciated! See you two more times before 2019.


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